


To Learn and Be Wise

by KannaOphelia



Category: Original Work
Genre: (at least for the robot), Ambiguous Robot Design, Ambiguously Futuristic Office, As slow burn as you can get in 7000 words, Being Held While Masturbating, Conventionally Unattractive Love Interest, Enthusiastic Consent, Erotic Electrostimulation, First Time, Hand & Finger Kink, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Office Sex, Repressed Emotions, Robot POV, Robot Sex, Robot/Human Relationships, Robots Deserve True Love Too, Trust, What is this human thing called sex?, YesFest 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:15:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26807230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KannaOphelia/pseuds/KannaOphelia
Summary: When BETA-13 had first introduced himself as Bio-Electronic Technical Automaton 13-20-12, Clancy had looked at him for along moment, as if his glasses gave him the power to read the pathways of a robot's silicon brain. "That's not a name. That's a designation.""Most people call me BETA-13. It's my initials. And I'm an experimental version released to the public.""A beta version," Clancy said, his voice toneless and flat, staring through his glasses at the screen."My designers found it very amusing.""So your name is a joke?" Clancy didn't speak any further and had turned back to his work. BETA-13 was afraid he had offended him, and was sorry, but accepting. Humans didn't like robots much, outside the labs. That was just the way it was..
Relationships: Stoic Human Failing At Repressing Feelings/Robot Friend Who Is Surprised By Their Own Feelings
Comments: 25
Kudos: 68
Collections: Yes Fest 2020





	To Learn and Be Wise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nununununu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/gifts).



> Thank you for the wonderful request, Nunununu. To acknowledge inspiration, I was slightly obsessed with Asimov's _Satisfaction Guaranteed_ as a teenager, but couldn't help wishing that TN-3 was capable of falling in love and that they had robot sex. Those wishes haunt this fic like thirsty ghosts.
> 
> Note: BETA-13's appearance is intentionally left vague, so you can imagine him as as human-like or non-human as you like.

Bio-Electronic Technical Automaton 13-20-12 did not, technically—and that was a thought that he could only recognize as amusing, through the pleasant bubble in his neural pathways it caused—have to patrol the building in order to function as a night guard. His "subsidiary eyes", tiny little cameras stationed all over the building, were capable of monitoring it at all times. But he was an expensive piece of equipment, and the way he silently stalked the corridors was a deterrent to any break-ins.

Besides, there was another function accomplished by leaving his place, and he wasn't quite sure when it had begun to seem like a positive, if not necessary, function to him.

Some of the human workers called out "Good night, BETA-13," as he went past. Their tones varied. Some thought it was amusing to greet him, others were unsure if they were being ridiculous or not. Some were automatically polite. None were altogether easy in his presence. Although BETA-13 's designers had tried hard to make him unthreatening, he was still too close to human, and too far away from human at the same time, not to mention too tall. That was why he had eventually been relegated from his task as an assistant to that of a night guard, where his intimidating qualities were at least a bonus.

He greeted the humans politely and carried on, to level 16, cubicle room Q. There, Clancy worked late as usual, taking all the overtime he could.

"You're early tonight, Thurston," Clancy said. "Hardly had time to miss you."

Clancy was the only one who ever called BETA-13 Thurston, and never in front of anyone else. BETA-13 liked it that way. It was an odd experience, like he was a different being when they were together.

When BETA-13 had first introduced himself as Bio-Electronic Technical Automaton 13-20-12, Clancy had looked at him for along moment, as if his glasses gave him the power to read the pathways of a robot's silicon brain. "That's not a name. That's a designation."

"Most people call me BETA-13. It's my initials. And I'm an experimental version released to the public."

"A beta version," Clancy said, his voice toneless and flat, staring through his glasses at the screen.

"My designers found it very amusing."

"So your name is a _joke_?" Clancy didn't speak any further and had turned back to his work. BETA-13 was afraid he had offended him, and was sorry, but accepting. Humans didn't like robots much, outside the labs. That was just the way it was.

A few weeks later, after BETA-13 had passed by on his rounds several times a night and greeted him, Clancy had abruptly said, "See here. I don't like calling you by a joke name, but if you prefer it, I'll use it. You have the right to choose your own preference for a name."

BETA-13 considered it carefully. "I have no particular attachment to the designation. You are welcome to think of one yourself."

Clancy's color rose, flushing his brown neck a blotchy red. "I can't take away your name and give you a new one. But I could give you a nickname. It's something humans do sometimes, to be friendly. Only if you like."

BETA-13 nodded. "I am aware of the custom. I understand many thousands of human customs."

"Yeah, but would you _like_ it? I mean, are you even capable of liking things? I don't want to be rude, but... I really don't know."

"If you mean to ask if I like it in the way that a human would like it, I have no way of judging. I've never been human. But some things in my neural pathways give me positive feedback, and I think I would like you to nickname me."

"All right. Tell me if I ask too many questions and you stop getting positive feedback, all right?" Clancy smiled at the robot, a faint turning up of the corners. _Shyness_ , BETA-13 recognized, carefully held under control. Clancy smiled infrequently, and this was nervousness, not happiness. "I get a bit lonely here at night, might talk your metal ears off if you let me."

BETA-13 knew enough to recognize it as a joke. Clancy didn't speak much. He wasn't sure if it would be more polite to laugh or not. Eventually, he said, "My ears aren't metal."

"I'm aware of that." Clancy's rare smile deepened and looked more like happiness. He had a round face, with curved cheeks and a deep dimple in his left cheek. It was an expressive face, or should have been, but its expression was usually neutral. "I've been thinking about it. Thirteen... mind if I call you Thurston? It sounds a bit alike, and it's an old-fashioned kind of name. It suits you. You're always so polite. Old-fashioned. Besides, it means Hammer of Thor, which is a pretty good name for a guard."

"You may call me Thurston."

"Thanks. Come and stop with me sometimes, Thurston, if you don't mind, and it doesn't interfere with your duties."

"I will."

He came back the next night. Clancy put aside his work for a while, pushing his glasses back up on the top of his head.

"Short-sighted," he said, somewhat curtly. "Guess you don't have to worry about that."

"No." BETA-13 wondered if he should explain the exact depth and precision of his visual fields, but thought it better not to.

"My Nan always told me that if I sat too close to screens I'd end up losing half my eyesight, and here I am. And with a pretty sight to look at, too."

"Humans don't usually find me pretty."

"Your design looks all right to me."

"Perhaps that is the problem. Humans are not flawless. It's an interesting psychological question."

"Still. Do people go into the art gallery and complain that the pictures are too beautiful?"

"I'm not an object."

"Of course. Of course you're not, I'm sorry." Clancy rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes. "Never was very good at small talk, and I seem to have forgotten how to talk at all, these days."

"I find your communication adequate. This is the longest friendly conversation I've had since I left the lab."

Clancy lowered his hand. His eyes were wide-set, small and deep brown. "I suppose you're on guard alone all night. What do you do during the day?"

"I go into power-saving mode."

"That seems a waste of your capacity."

"I'm very power-hungry."

"Well, when you're the new robot overlord and the human are lined up against the wall, remember me kindly."

"I misspoke. I meant that—"

"I understand. It was only a joke." Clancy reached out and patted his hand, then froze. "Sorry, I don't know if you can feel that."

"I have receptors for positive and negative sensory input. They are analogous to pleasure and pain, but again--"

"No way of judging. I understand. Well, if I ever do anything or ask you to do anything you don't like, tell me." Clancy subsided as if speaking for so long had tired him, and returned to his accounts.

BETA-13 developed a habit of stopping by Clancy's cubicle and staying with him most of the time until he left. He had been designed, he told himself, to spend time with and learn from humans, and even being assigned to a task that meant he spent all his time alone didn't mean that basic drive was gone. Clancy did a lot of overtime, so he was the only human available to learn from.

"Why do you work so much later than everyone else?" BETA-13 asked one night.

"My husband."

"Are you trying to avoid him?"

"My _ex_ -husband, except I've never filed for divorce. Took off eight years ago. He was running his dream restaurant, and it was more a dream than something workable, really. He ranup a lot of debts and--I guess it was all too much for him. Vanished and left me with nothing but the mess to clean up." Clancy's voice was steady.

BETA-13 compared it to the information in his head. "Isn't it usual to declare bankruptcy?"

"And leave the suppliers with nothing? They were small businesses, too. I borrowed money to repay them, and I do all the overtime I can to pay my loans off." Clancy shrugged his shoulders, making his plump back ripple over his shoulder blades. "I don't mind the work. Looking for problems, looking for opportunities, the numbers, it's satisfying. The overtime gives me something to do rather than go home to an empty house." He gave BETA-13 one of his brief smiles. "After all, here I have your company."

There was a pleasure response, and also a pain response in BETA-13's systems, as if Clancy's story both pleased and hurt him. That was an interesting learning experience to consider as he checked all the cameras for movement.

"Leaving you with the debts was not justice," he said at last.

"Humans can't always be just, Thurston. We don't have your intelligence or your purity. Mark was always scared of people being angry with him or feeling like he had let them down. In the end, he couldn't face me with his failure, and that was more important to him than how I felt."

BETA-13 felt that Clancy's set jaw didn't make any sense along with a note of pain in his voice. It was confusing, and he told himself it was educational. He was aware of a strong desire to make Mark come back and fix the situation somehow.

It took a few days of contemplation before he said, "You are lonely without your husband."

Clancy stared at his screen, numbers reflected in blue light on the lenses of his glasses. His hair was thinning slightly, and BETA-13 sorted through his databases to try and find a word for how that made him feel. Protective. Well, that was a good impulse for a security robot.

"I suppose so."

"What about friends?"

"I have you."

"You consider a robot a friend?"

Clancy's blotchy flush rose. "Is that ridiculous? Just because you were created doesn't mean you're not a thinking, feeling, living being, after all."

"I am not living. I do not meet the basic criteria of cell division or reproductive capability."

"You're capable of learning, growing mentally, and changing. I've been reading a lot," said Clancy, with an eagerness that was new to him, words stumbling over themselves. "They worked hard to make your series capable of learning and changing and feeling. That's why you have so much capacity for good and bad feeling. What does it matter if it was originally programmed? You make your own paths. You weren't programmed to spend time with me, but you do. Isn't it because you like it?"

"I enjoy your company," BETA-13 said, and discovered he liked even more the quiet radiance that spread over Clancy's face. It was beautiful. The dimple, the double chin, the faint shadow of stubble. All beautiful.

Clancy spoke more frequently after that. About his difficulty talking to co-workers, the way he felt he had nothing in common with them with their families and friends and disdain for a job he enjoyed. _You're so much easier to talk to, Thurston,_ he said, and Thurston felt his pleasure response again. He told BETA-13 about what he had been reading, frequently about robotics. _I want to understand you better, Thurston._ Thurston began to speak himself, about the lab, about his responses.

"It's a crying shame," Clancy said, his fingers tapping viciously at his keyboard. "You could do my job in an instant. You could do anything, with a brain your size. And you hang around empty offices, just because people are scared."

"The offices aren't empty with you here," BETA-13 said, and Clancy's flush rose again. BETA-13 was discovering he liked making the flush appear.

It was a shame, too, he thought, that Clancy had no company but a robot. What had been wrong with Mark, to abandon someone so intelligent, so restful? Someone with such lovely hands, round and brown and long-fingered? It was all wrong. And, BETA-13 realized, he himself had access to all the electronic libraries in the world, and that included dating and relationship advice.

His mind worked hard all night, and in the morning he presented Clancy with a digest of information on dressing fashionably and self-presentation and small talk. Clancy stared blankly at it.

"What the hell is this for?"

"Finding you a new husband," BETA-13 said.

The flushing was less pleasant this time. "Thurston, I know you mean well, but..."

"You are lonely, and you are pleasing. There will be other lonely, pleasing men who will enjoy your company and fall in love with you, but you lack confidence. This advice will help you get past the initial stages of courtship. It is essential that you revise it by Thursday week."

"Why Thursday week? You're setting me up?"

"There is a speed dating session being held by the company social club. I think your chances are excellent."

Clancy seemed to be having difficulty regaining his usual calm. "Thurston, I know you mean well, and you're very kind. If you were human I might be angry at you interfering, but you... You are pure in your intent always, I know that. But all the snappy dressing and first lines in the world isn't going to change the fact that I'm a fat, dull, awkward accountant the wrong side of forty-five and with a load of debt. Hardly the world's most eligible bachelor."

"There will be other accountants there, and people your age. Also, there are men who see themselves as what they call chubby chasers. The chances are good that you will find someone compatible."

Clancy was silent for a moment. "Look, I'm happy as I am, really, don't want to change myself to get a date, but I don't like the idea of dating someone just fetishizing my weight, either."

"Being attracted to a feature is not the same as fetishizing it," BETA-13 said stubbornly. "I believe you are what is called 'cuddly'. Your rounded belly and your thick forearms are particularly attractive, not to mention your thigh spread. They appeal to my pleasure circuits."

Clancy made a strangled noise, turned red, and accepted the files without further argument. BETA-13 was pleased at his cooperativeness.

Thursday week, Clancy turned up in a stylish new suit, his pinstripes just so, his shirt perfect soft cotton, his tie tasteful silk. "Do you approve?"

"It is most suitable. Your skin glows against that blue."

Clancy made the same strangled noise, then said, "I've been teased _all day_ about having a hot date lined up. I suppose, in a way, I do."

"You will have to leave at 20.48 to make the speed dating session."

"I remember."

At 20.46, Clancy was still buried in his reports. BETA-13 began to feel discomfort in his circuits.

"Perhaps you should prepare yourself to leave," he said.

"I'm not going."

"Then why the suit?"

"I don't know. I didn't want to waste your efforts, I suppose."

"You need to overcome your low self-confidence. You should not decide that you are going to be rejected before you even try."

"It's not that."

"Then what is it? You are human. You require human company."

"I was thinking about that." Clancy stared hard at his screen. "I can't imagine preferring anyone's company to yours, Thurston."

BETA-13's circuits screamed into more intensely positive responses than he had ever felt before. How inexplicable. Perhaps, though he had been programmed for this, for delight in a human wanting his presence. It would make sense, after all. He was created for the convenience of humans.

From where, then, emerged the conviction that no other human desiring his company would feel the same? The rush of protectiveness he felt around Clancy surging up? Of course, he was a guard. His current function was to protect. And Clancy was the only human around to protect.

"I like your company best of all too," BETA-13 said.

"Is that true?"

"I'm not yet capable of lying."

"I like the _yet_. Perhaps you need to work on it." Clancy turned back to his work. His rare smile was hovering, and his skin temperature was higher than usual, his cheeks and neck darker, and that was very pleasing, too.

BETA-13 sought for the appropriate word, and decided "lovely" was the closest he could come to how Clancy looked when he was happy and embarrassed. It made him want to think of things to draw out that expression more. But what, precisely, could a night guard robot do to make a human happy?

Clancy continued to wear the smarter clothes, and BETA-13 continued to try to think of ways to please him. He sorted through the literature and books he had available and the only things he could come up with--flowers, wine, dining out--were impossible for an automaton who didn't eat or leave the building or make money. He had thought finding Clancy a new husband would help, but he was aware of a tiny satisfaction that Clancy preferred his company to any hypothetical human.

He was also aware that he kept finding himself looking at guides on romance and courtship, and that was ridiculous. He wasn't created to fall in love, and humans certainly weren't known for falling in love with robots. If he knew more about humans, he would know better what was actually going on, and how to keep Clancy happy and satisfied.

Perhaps it was merely that he was aware that one of the things Clancy was probably missing in his life was sexual satisfaction, and he had no idea how he could provide that, that set his mind on that path. He didn't have the equipment, so to speak, that he was sure Clancy would prefer for full satisfaction. He had a reasonable imitation of a human mouth and tongue that moved like a human's did when he spoke, on the idea that was more reassuring than clearly inhuman communication, but they were smooth and dry, as he didn't eat and had no need of wetness for his voice processors. Perhaps he could lubricate the inside of his mouth with the contents of some of the sachets available in the workplace toilets. And he did have something close to hands, if with more joints than humans normally had, for more precise work. But there was nothing soft and alluring about him, nothing like Clancy, and really he wouldn't expect Clancy to develop affection for a silicone sex toy, so why was he even entertaining these ideas? He just wanted to show some return on how much more interesting and full of education his life was now he had a companion for some hours each night.

Perhaps he should ask Clancy about his tastes and then provide him with some pornography and some tips on masturbation. That might help him be happier and more content. BETA-13 wasn't sure why he disliked the idea so very much.

Like, dislike. His patterns of thought were veering away from recognizing that he only had facsimiles of like and dislike, of pain and pleasure. He was thinking in terms of _wanting_ , and _caring_ , and perhaps it wasn't what humans thought of as wanting and caring, but he seemed to recognize it in literature he was devouring, and what other words were there?

He cared about Clancy. He wanted Clancy to be happy. He _wanted_... he didn't know what he wanted. Except that he wanted Clancy in some difficult, complex, undefined way.

He found himself sitting by Clancy as he worked, trying to think of a way to explain this. Clancy was kind. He wouldn't panic. He would help BETA-13 understand, tell him in a way that helped. Clancy _liked_ him.

He was telling Clancy more about the way his adaptive intelligence had been developed, the rest of his mind absently flipping through the cameras, when Clancy pushed his chair back on his wheels.

"I'm stupid, you know."

"You know that isn't true. You are extremely intelligent for a human. Your intelligence scores--"

"That's not what I mean."

"I don't mean stupid in that sense. I mean that I gave my car a name. Stephen."

"It's a nice name."

"I always cried as a kid when my virtual pets died. You see, they weren't really alive, but I convinced myself they were my friends. That they could love me back. BETA-13, can I ask you something?"

The designation felt unpleasant, a sharp jab of what he had no alternative but to call pain. "You can always ask me anything, Clancy."

"Are you my friend?"

"Yes."

"If I changed my job tomorrow, would you miss me?"

BETA-13 contemplated a life without Clancy. His mind shied away from it, didn't want to bring it into existence. "Yes. My life would lack interest and... and... happiness. I would feel pain. I think I would be very sad."

"I see," Clancy said, softly. "Thurston, can you lie yet?"

"No." Clancy had taken his glasses off again to look at him properly, and his eyes were shining, but they were wet with tears, too, and his mouth was working oddly, as if he didn't quite know how to make words form. BETA-13 didn't know how to read his emotions, but he could tell they were strong. Perhaps he should simply ask. "Clancy, what are you feeling?"

"I don't even know," Clancy said, and returned to his work.

BETA-13 was almost sure he was lying.

Trying to make Clancy happy became a kind of obsession. He read constantly, looking for clues. He couldn't buy anything, he couldn't go anywhere, he couldn't create anything. He could do Clancy's work, but he was sure Clancy wouldn't appreciate that. All he could do was spend time with him, and that didn't seem enough. Clancy spoke less, retreated back into his shell a little and the more BETA-13 thought about making him happy, the less happy he seemed.

One night he wasn't there. Or the next night. Surely BETA-13 hadn't done anything to upset him. Surely nothing had happened. He had spoken of another job. But he wouldn't go without any word. Not after BETA-13 had told him that it would cause him pain. Clancy was more considerate than that.

BETA-13 knew he could do his rounds properly, circuit the building. There was no reason to stay by Clancy's cubicle when he wasn't there. He did so anyway, and every circuit in him hurt.

On the third night, as he did his early rounds, BETA-13 spoke to one of the employees from Cubicle Room 16 Q who greeted him most often. "Harry, does Clancy still work here?"

Harry blinked at him. "Yeah, sure."

"Has he been leaving earlier than usual?"

"Why? Has he finally got a new boyfriend at last? Good for him."

A woman who was shoving her things into her purse looked up. "Oh, BETA-13, sorry! Clancy has been off with a cold. He asked me to let you know, and it quite went out of my mind. My own kid is sick." She waved at them both and hurried to the stairs.

"Why would he want to tell a robot?" Harry blinked again. It was an oddly attractive blink. "Oh, yeah. Sorry. Clancy did say you came and sat with him sometimes. Were you worried?" A grin split his face. "That's kind of sweet, BETA-13. You've made a human friend."

The pain ebbed and fell. "Clancy could be friends with a robot?"

"Don't see why not. He was worried you would worry about him, right?"

"Clancy said he had no friends."

Harry shook his head, long ponytail swinging. "Damn. Hit a man where it hurts. I thought we _were_ friends. So does Jan there. As far as I know, we all get along."

"You like him?"

"Sure I do. He doesn't talk much, but he's kind to everyone. And that jerk of an ex left him in a mess, and he never complains. It's a crying shame."

"Do you find him attractive?"

"What kind of question is that for a robot to ask?"

"I am trying to learn about humans. It's part of my function."

"Oh. Well, yeah. He's not bad. Reassuring looking, if that doesn't sound stupid." It didn't. "Never really noticed his looks before, but he looks good in those new suits."

BETA-13 processed his thoughts in a few seconds. Harry was in his late forties, single, had signed up for the speed dating events more than once, listing himself as looking for men. He was signed up for the next one in a month. If BETA-13 encouraged Clancy to attend, there would be a relatively good chance that they would make a connection there, if they knew each other were available. Telling Clancy that Harry liked him might help.

There might be a quicker way.

"Clancy wears those suits for you."

"What?" Harry seemed more confused than shocked.

"He asked for advice on how to appear more attractive. I have access to fashion information and analysis on flattering dressing. He was hoping to appeal more to you, but he clearly lacks the self-confidence to ask you out." Lying was surprisingly easy, once BETA-13 got started. It hurt, but that was because he was doing something that went against his initial programming, so naturally he felt resistance.

"You're kidding." Harry's eyes were wide, and crystal blue. He was aesthetically appealing, as far as BETA-13 could tell. "Isn't he interested in someone? He mentions someone called Thurston sometimes."

"Thurston is just a friend," BETA-13 said, despite the strange sensation the words caused him.

"Wow. Well, um, you've given me something to think about. Good night, BETA-13." Harry picked up his things and left.

BETA-13 decided he was pleased with how things had gone. This had been the longest conversation he had with a human other than Clancy, and Harry had seemed polite and kind. He was probably worthy of Clancy, and would be kind and considerate to him. BETA-13 had finally stumbled on a way to contribute to Clancy's happiness.

Everything was pain. But then, he hadn't been programmed to lie, even for good purposes.

It was a few days before Clancy returned to work. BETA-13 felt a rush of joy at the sight of him. Joy. None of his programming had talked about joy. But he had no idea of what else would be analogous to seeing those round shoulders in the cotton shirt, that gaze fixed on the screen, gave him. "Good evening, Clancy."

"Hello, Thurston." Clancy didn't turn around, and BETA-13 felt some confusion. Perhaps he had been ridiculous to anticipate that Clancy would show happiness at seeing him. But he had told his co-workers about a friend called Thurston, had implied in that conversation that he was attached to BETA-13. They were _friends._

Perhaps this was a test of what hey had talked about. "I missed you, Clancy. I am happy about your return. I hope you feel well."

"I got over the cold, if that's what you mean." Clancy didn't turn around, but at last he said, "I missed you, too." His words were flat and without emotion.

He continued to work as the last co-workers finished and trickled out. Harry gave the two of them what seemed like a strange look, but called out "Good night, BETA-13! Night, Clancy! Be good, you two," in what sounded like a friendly enough voice. Clancy nodded and replied politely.

BETA-13 took a seat, one strong-looking enough for his size and inhuman weight. and gazed at Clancy. There was something wrong, he was sure of it, but oh, it was _nice_ to see him again. The nape of his neck where his dark hair curled, less thinned there. The slope of his shoulders. His dim reflection in the screen.

Eventually they were alone. Clancy sighed, and stopped typing. They sat there in silence for a while. BETA-13 counted the time until Clancy took off his glasses and spun his chair around. Six minutes, 12 seconds. "Did you tell Harry I had a crush on him?"

Lying was easy when it was to Harry, but somehow he found it impossible to lie to Clancy. "I did."

"I thought you couldn't lie?"

"I found I could when it was in the service of your happiness," BETA-13 said, a little coldly.

"Thank God he thought it was hilarious when I explained that I thought you were match-making. He could have been offended at being rejected. He could have been sorry for me."

"Why did you reject him?" This emotion was new, it was hot and red. Anger. he had made a sacrifice, Clancy would not spend so many evenings with him if he had a boyfriend, and Clancy didn't appreciate it at all. "He is handsome and kind and he likes you."

"I don't want him. Have you any idea what hell I'm in?" He had never looked like this, skin darkened to almost purple, eyes wild in his face.

"No. But if I can do anything to help you, anything at all, I will."

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Clancy was not a quick moving man, he was ponderous and restrained at most times, but he was somehow across the room and his hands were on either side of BETA-13's head and for one moment BETA-13 thought this fragile human was going to try to hurt him.

Then human lips crashed against his own.

The sensory input told BETA-13 that it was an unthreatening pressure, that provided pleasant feedback, and also that the circuits of his brain were in danger of overloading at any moment. It stopped almost as soon as it began, and Clancy pulled back. "I don't even know if you _can_ kiss, if you like the sensation, and I think I've gone crazy, but the only times I'm happy are when I'm with you and I _want_ , I _want_ , Thurston, Thurston..."

The name, his true name, ringing in his not-metal ears, Thurston did the only thing that seemed to make sense for him, which was to put one arm around a plump, _wonderful_ waist and pull the human onto his lap. Clancy made a strangled noise, then slid his arms around Thurston's neck and crushed close. He was warm and human and his lips were pressing against the side of Thurston's face and Thurston felt that his entire construction was turned up to greater receptiveness, tuned just to register every press of flesh, every degree of heat, every weight and curve and kiss and the smell of the man, warm and human and with a muskiness he had never detected before.

He could feel hot wetness sliding onto his neck. Not saliva. Tears.

"I read a story when I was young. About a housewife who had a robot assistant who dressed her up prettily and fixed her life. He was kind and clever and understanding. And then, to help her self-confidence, he pretended to fall in love with her. Only he couldn't have feelings, because he was a robot. But she loved _him_. God help me, I thought it was _romantic._ I didn't think of how much she would suffer, in love with a perfect being without human feelings."

"I don't have human feelings. I only have mine. I don't know if they are the same. But they are yours." He wrapped his arms carefully around the man.

Clancy pressed his lips on his again, and Thurston tried to recall from his research the correct procedure, give the right pressure back, relax his jaw. He was acutely aware at the first touch of a warm, soft human tongue that his own mouth was all wrong, dry and without the delicate texture of Clancy's. He should make it feel softer. He tried releasing a gentle electric buzz, just enough that it should make a sensation of warm rolling tingles.

Thurston pulled back, eyes wide. "What was that?"

"If it was unpleasant, I apologize."

"No. Fuck, no. It was..." Clancy kissed him again, and Thurston responded carefully again. He was having difficulty processing his own reactions, but the kisses were sweet, and Clancy's soft sounds of pleasure were creating euphoria. He was making Clancy happy, he wanted to make him happier, and he felt tense and excited and like everything in this world was new, with the mouth open and exploring his, the arms around him, the soft bulk in his arms. He _wanted_ , a swirling and confusing feeling of want, mixed up with protectiveness and pride, that he could make a human this happy.

Kissing was wonderful. No wonder humans sought it so fiercely.

For a moment he considered turning the electric field up all over his body, to make Thurston even happier, but that was a bad idea. It would be dangerous to risk it close to a human's heart. He shouldn't be capable of having bad ideas. His logic processors seemed severely impaired, and he had to be careful not to harm this precious, wonderful human, who _loved_ him.

Clancy was changing his position, one thigh moving more across Thurston's lap so it could become more comfortably pressed against his, so he could push closer. The movement brought his pelvis against the base of Thurston's torso, his hips moving, grinding against him, and he could feel the solid heat of his arousal through the newly stylish trousers, crushed against him. It concerned him. He wasn't soft and giving like Clancy, it must hurt, the small gasps and whimpers Clancy was making against Thurston's mouth suggested so, but the man had lost control. Thurston moved his hands to Thurston's padded hips and pulled him slightly away.

"God. I'm sorry." Thurston pulled from the kiss. "You're not some kind of sex-bot, and I wouldn't force you into letting me get off on you if you were. Bad enough fantasizing about you without your permission."

 _Fantasizing._ Clancy fantasized about him, BETA-13--Thurston. "You have my permission."

Clancy managed to smile at him, a little warily. "That will be a comfort when I go home and bring myself off remembering kissing you."

The thought made the pathways in Thurston's brains whirl and sparkle. "When you bring yourself off here."

"What?" Clancy's eyes didn't seem so small any more, but they were, as always, perfectly sized.

"I'll hold you through it." Thurston's voice was strange in his own ears. Not breathless, like Clancy's voice. He had no need to pull deep, ragged breaths through human lungs like Clancy. Thurston had no lungs, no need for breath to power his voice processor. There were just resonances in his voice he hadn't intended to put there, resonances that didn't sound like the efficient night guard BETA-13. Perhaps they sounded like Thurston. "I'll hold you," he said again, even though he had already adequately conveyed the offer and didn't need to repeat it. "I want to."

Clancy breathed a curse. "You're sure? You're... you're so perfect, so pure and _clean_ , and it will be messy."

"You are perfect," said Thurston, and, "please."

"You amazing being," Clancy said, voice breaking, "how can I ever deserve you?"

"You are perfect," Thurston said again. "Only you."

Clancy stared at him one long moment, and Thurston wished he could show facial expressions better. "I know perfectly well you might be pretending to make me happy and right now I don't even fucking care. Want you so much." His hand went to his fly, straining over his erection, and then, closing his eyes, pulled it down, lifted his hips, wriggled his pants down.

Thurston reached out, curious, and lifted Clancy's shirt to get a better view. His penis was dark and slightly purple with blood, curving up from the thatch of black hair against his rounded belly with its delicate pale traces of stretch marks, the foreskin already retracted to show the head, clear fluid beading around it. Already messy, Clancy had been right. It was exquisite. Thurston wanted to feel the blood-heat radiating from it, trace the line along the base, feel the hardness and wetness that was proof that this human, this beautiful wonderful human, _wanted_ him.

He didn't want to hurt Clancy further with the hard surface of his hand. Well, it had worked when they kissed. Thurston summoned the buzz of electricity, and reached out to run a finger up the silky skin.

Clancy jerked. " _Fuck_."

Thurston pulled his hand back. "I am sorry. Did I misjudge the sensation? Did it hurt?" Protectiveness flooded through him, and he put an arm around Thurston's warm back.

"Yeah. It hurt, a bit--no, you didn't misjudge it. It was a lot, that's all. Might need to work up to that." Clancy kissed the side of his face. "Gently, darling."

Darling. He wondered if any other robot had ever been called _darling_ before. The word seemed to set off things inside him, and finding the right words for the emotions no longer seemed important. More important to cradle, to reduce the stimulation, to touch, carefully, watch the changes in Clancy's expression, the way he arched and flung his head back, supported by the arm behind him. Listen to the incoherent sounds, watch the way he leaked with pleasure, his erection jerking, so organic and human and messy and wonderful.

Thurston traced a finger down over the fragile skin holding Clancy's testicles, and gave into curiosity and pulled down gently, leading to a crescendo of broken sounds. "Did that hurt?"

"Yes. Perfect."

He followed his curiosity, let his hand wander back further, then exploring the firm give of the perineum.

"More."

He considered what that might mean, and experimentally increased the electrical charge his fingers were giving off. Clancy made strangled desperate noises, surging in his encircling arm.

"Wait, give me your hand."

Thurston pulled his hand away, and Clancy seized it. "You have beautiful hands, you know that? So precise. And I read about your sensors, they are so sensitive. Dreamed about them on me. Dreamed about..." He pulled two fingers into his mouth and sucked wetly, lathing his tongue against them. Thurston could feel the faint scrape of teeth on his knuckles, the suction, so much wetness, and Clancy wasn't objecting to the electric pulses now, he was sucking as if he was starving.

When Clancy finally released his hand, Thurston stared at his fingers, shining with saliva.

"Inside. Please." Clancy lifted himself slightly, and Thurston, understanding, found the right place, pressed inside.

A tight circle of muscle, and inside, nothing but silken heat, feeling like it was flowing up his fingers and suffusing his entire being with warmth. Clancy was making no attempt to keep himself upright now, falling back against Thurston's encircling arm as he concentrated on the movement of his hips. Trusting Thurston to not let fall. Trusting him past the private edges of his human body, letting him be possessed. And the word for that was real, it was easy, it came from every book he had read in wanting to find Clancy a partner. Love. The profundity of it astonished him.

"Clancy," he said, and Clancy cried out sharply, hand going to himself, pulling and moving sharply, spreading the clear pre-ejaculate down to make his hand glide.

"Thurston. More."

He understood what was meant, because Clancy had said _work up to it_ , so he increased the strength of the pulsing electricity, keeping it safe, keeping it careful, but making the man thrash in his arm and jerk and swear. His erection twitched and he climaxed, reaching orgasm in long, convulsive splashes while Thurston, remembering his promise, pulled Clancy's head to his shoulder, his finger still sending buzzes of stimulation inside him, breathing in his sweat and apple-scented shampoo and the scent of his ejaculate.

 _Mine_ , he thought, _mine_ , which was not something that should be possible for a robot to think of a human. Humans made robots, humans didn't belong to robots. But Clancy was sobbing with over-stimulation, the pulses still going through his most intimate areas as he tried to come down from orgasm, clinging around Thurston's neck, and he couldn't help the possessiveness, the fierce tenderness, the burning happiness. His, his to protect, to cherish, to keep company, to give this kind of pleasure to. His friend.

"Wanted you so much," Clancy muttered against his shoulder.

He let the pulses fade from his finger, pulled gently out, feeling compunction at the way Clancy twitched with discomfort, and wrapped both arms around him.

For a long moment Clancy stayed very still, his breathing gradually slowing, his racing heart beat steadying. Then he pulled back. "Oh God. Oh, sorry. You're such a mess." He grabbed tissues from the table, scrubbed at the robot. "Thurston. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Clancy stumbled to his feet, awkwardly pulled his trousers back on. His shirt was soiled, but he didn't seem to notice. "Thurston, I'm sorry, I--" His usual calm was shattered completely.

Then he turned, and bolted.

Thurston sat quietly. He felt he should have done something. But what? Chase after a human, use his size and strength to restrain him?

Clancy had left his computer turned on, his files open. Thurston carefully saved them all, shut the computer down for him, and took his half empty coffee cup to the kitchen. Wiped down the chair, and set the little pot-plant on the desk, which had fallen over at some point, straight. Cleared up the spilled dirt. Clancy had left his glasses on the desk; Thurston carefully folded them up and placed them next to the keyboard. Then he cleaned himself.

There. Everything was nice and tidy, the way Clancy liked it.

BETA-13 watched his cameras all night. Clancy didn't come back. Nor did he come in to work the next morning, at least by the time BETA-13 had no excuse to keep awake.

He powered up early the next evening, and went straight to Level 16, Cubicle Room Q. Harry and Jan were still working. Harry gave him an odd look, but then smiled, kindly. He _was_ kind. He would have been a perfect partner for Clancy, and BETA-13 felt like he would rather die than say so.

"Hey, it's the match-maker. No good, you know. That Thurston guy really was the snake in the grass."

"I apologise."

Jan said, "Hi, BETA-13. Looking for your friend? He reported in with a headache."

"Thank you for informing me. I hope your child has recovered."

"It was just a bug. Thanks for caring, though. I guess Clancy is right when he says you're a special robot."

There was no justification for asking what he did. He asked it anyway. "Do you have a personal email for Clancy? There is some information I wish to send him, that I think will help him."

They stared at him, suspiciously. Then Harry said, slowly, "I'm probably not supposed to, but I can't imagine what you would do wrong with it. All right." He reached for a sticky note, and copied something from his phone.

"I am very grateful. I wish you both a good night."

BETA-13 went to Level 12, which was always deserted, opened a computer, and made a free email account. Some of the dating books had given him helpful advice on such things. There was a high chance Clancy's email would sort it as spam, but it wasn't as if he had his own email account. It wasn't required for a night guard. He put "This is from Thurston. I would appreciate you reading this," in the header.

Then he made his rounds.

It was two in the morning when his cameras showed him a familiar shape standing at the side entrance. He went down and opened the door.

"Hello, Clancy." Was this fear? He was under no threat. But Clancy looked so tired.

" _How_ can you love me?" the human, his own precious human, demanded.

"I don't know. It is the only word I have. And I have--"

"No basis for comparison. I know."

"I want to be with you every moment I can. I want to protect you. To make you happy. Last evening gave me _joy._ I want to do it again. I want you. You are clever and kind and responsible and considerate and passionate and beautiful. I don't have another word for it but love."

"No one's ever called me beautiful but you."

"Then they are wrong. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

Clancy was trembling. "This is crazy. A robot can't be in love with me. Like, what even do we do with this? You can't leave the building. It's not like I can marry you and carry you off."

"Would you want to?"

Clancy bit his lip. "Hell, yes."

"We do what we can. When you finish paying off your debts, I'm sure the night guard will not object to you staying in the building of an evening."

Clancy laughed, a half-strangled sound. "This is crazy," he repeated, more softly. "But maybe I don't even care. You won't--you won't let me down or hurt me. I know that."

Thurston held an arm out. "Come back home, darling."

Clancy stepped into the building, and his arms.


End file.
